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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22868980">Daddy Issues</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lincoln_still_sucks/pseuds/Lincoln_still_sucks'>Lincoln_still_sucks</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>House M.D.</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>M/M, Male Solo, Older Man/Younger Man, Pining</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-02-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 07:00:41</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>541</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22868980</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lincoln_still_sucks/pseuds/Lincoln_still_sucks</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Chase has daddy issues, which leads him to have some questionable preferences</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Robert Chase/Greg House</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>68</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Daddy Issues</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I think I might be late to writing this</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Daddy issues was a halfway decent explanation for Chase’s sudden behavior. Maybe some kind of emotional masochism, or just simple boredom. Whatever it was, it had Chase staring up at his ceiling, barely visible, but naturally he wasn’t staring because it was an interesting sight. It was an ineffective distraction from the guilty kind of arousal that had been eating him up the past few weeks. <br/><br/>Chase was older than crushes, he was older than thinking about somebody who barely recognized his existence while jacking off.</p>
<p>Yet, there he was, trying to keep his hands off of himself while thinking about none other than Gregory House. “Fuck me, right?” He said, to the ceiling, to himself, really to anything that would echo it right back at him. For lack of a better term, it fucking sucked. He hadn’t experienced Catholic guilt since, well, ever, so he couldn’t exactly blame that for his hesitance. It wouldn’t be the first time he thought of somebody he knew to get off, but it was definitely the first time the subject in question was an older man with no regard for Chase, or just about anybody for that matter.</p>
<p>Chase stopped denying himself of pleasure, not like it would do any harm to just get it over with. He could think later, it was too early and he was too worked up to feel guilty. The room gradually grew darker, Chase didn’t even have to close his eyes to be a little more okay with what he was doing.</p>
<p>He wrapped a hand around his half hard cock, letting out a little huff of air as he did so. It felt wrong, but nonetheless, he gave himself a tentative stroke, feeling it harden completely in his hand. He picked up the pace, all the while picturing that mocking bastard. Cold eyes staring him down, a smirk that could only be described as cynical.</p>
<p>“Fucking hell,” Chase whispered to the cold air of his room. He had a tight grip on himself, hips bucking up into much needed friction. He had resigned to the fact that he couldn’t push House out of his head, being far too spurred on by the thought of being wrecked by his boss. He could practically feel his hands roaming his body, lingering in areas that elicited the most reaction.</p>
<p>Chase let out a choked moan, his unoccupied hand tightened in his sheets. House’s voice echoed in his head, driving him fucking wild in all the right ways. All he wanted was to hear that voice telling him the filthiest things it was capable of, to scold him, to utterly humiliate him, then maybe Chase could die happy.</p>
<p>It didn’t take long for him to spill over his hand, effectively turning him into a boneless heap that could generously be described as Robert Chase. He took a moment, then reluctantly heaved himself up to wash up a bit. When he returned to his room, everything settled in an uncomfortable way. He got off to House, and would have to face him the next day with that knowledge. Chase crawled into bed, buried his face in a pillow in hopes it would help him stop thinking about it.</p>
<p>He promptly fell asleep.</p>
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